


Aftermath

by CeleryLapel



Series: Poor Judgment [6]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8885101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeleryLapel/pseuds/CeleryLapel
Summary: Britta and Duncan deal with their feelings





	

**Author's Note:**

> This installment takes place during EIB, Part Three, Ch. 23 (Christmas, 2011). As always, no need to be familiar with the larger work. All you need to know is that Britta, Duncan, Troy, Abed, and Annie spent Christmas at Jeff’s mother’s house. This piece begins that evening, with Britta and Duncan finding themselves being the only ones sleeping on the ground floor.

Britta slammed her pillow down onto the pullout couch in the living room. She turned to grab a comforter Jeff’s mother had thoughtfully laid out for her before she had retired to bed earlier that evening. Deep in thought, she frowned as she spread the blanket over the couch.

_Likes animals. Check._

_Doesn’t drink. Check._

_Older woman. Check._

“Do you, err, have everything you need for the evening?”

Roused from her thoughts, she swung around and gasped.

Duncan stepped back a foot and held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’m so sorry. I apologize for startling you, Miss Perry. I merely wanted to make sure you were settled.”

Britta nodded several times and gulped. “I’m fine, I….hey, what on earth are you wearing?” She grinned as she allowed herself to take in the sight of Duncan’s plaid pajama pants and matching long-sleeved button-down pajama top. “You look like a dork.”

At his stricken face, she quickly slapped her hand over her mouth. She then removed it and mumbled, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was just surprised. You look all traditional. Like it’s Christmas and you’re in one of those poems.”

He scowled at her but with a hint of a smirk as he surreptitiously shoved the matching nightcap he held in his right hand into his pocket.

“It _is_ Christmas. And err, it’s cold. I like to bundle up on a cold winter’s eve.”

Britta let out a low laugh as she plopped down on edge of the couch bed, crossing one leg underneath her. She grabbed a TV Guide off the side table and began flipping through it a little too rapidly.

For a few moments, Duncan watched her with a hint of sadness. He then steeled himself and gingerly sat down next to her. He made sure not to get too close, allowing about a pillow length between them. He noticed she tensed slightly as he started to speak.

“I’m glad you could come to Christmas. It was nice having you here.”

Her eyes still on the magazine, she responded, “Yeah, it was fun. I’m not used to having a good time on Christmas, but hey, I guess there’s a first time for everything.” She suddenly stilled and tossed the Guide onto the floor.

“Miss Perry, what is it?”

She snapped her head toward him and blurted, “Call me Britta. God, we had _sex_.” Her eyes widening even further, she stilled again and held her back in a rigid posture.

Duncan took a deep breath and, shaking slightly, reached over to take her hand. He wasn’t sure if it was because she was receptive or merely frozen, but he was relieved that she didn’t recoil. Looking down at their entwined hands and with a tremble in his voice he said, “Yes, Miss, err, Britta, we did. We had sex.” Before he could lose his nerve, he added, “And it was lovely. I hope you feel the same.”

He could immediately feel her hands sweat. Or it could have been him, he honestly wasn’t sure.

She stammered, “What the fuck, Professor Duncan? Or, crap, am I supposed to call you _Ian_ now? God, I don’t think I can call you that. Maybe I can call you Duncan? I know sometimes Jeff calls you that. Or is that weird? That might be weird.”

He finally looked up to see her panicked face. With a hint of a smile around his eyes, he responded, “Call me whatever you like.”

Britta chose that moment to abruptly pull her hand out of his grasp. She crossed her arms over her chest and hunched forward slightly. Staring at the floor, she said, “Dorie calls you _Ian_. Maybe you’d like me to do that too?”

Duncan frowned. “Lots of people call me Ian. Why would you…”

She cut him off, “It’s _her_ , right?”

Duncan gulped as he took off his glasses. He pulled out the pajama hat from his pocket and began to use it to wipe them down. “Does it matter?”

“No, I guess not.”

“For the record, there is nothing there. She’s a friend.”

“She has the same eyes as Jeff. Is that weird for you? Or do you like…hey, Jeff’s pretty attractive, so I understand, it’s no big deal. You’ve known him a long time.”

Placing the glasses back on, he a tossed the hat to the side and turned to face her. “Why does everyone think that? Jeffrey and I are strictly platonic. And, yes, he is stunningly attractive. But err, _you_ would know.”

Britta took a quick intake of air before she scrunched up her face. “Don’t try to derail me. She’s _Jeff’s mom_. That’s weird. And now she’s met _me_. And I’ve met _her_. And it’s really strange and totally surprised me, but I like her. And you…yeah, she’s a friend of yours, but do you still, like, um…”

Duncan clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture and interjected, “I value her friendship and her opinion. There will never be anything else between us. And speaking of opinions, she told me before she hopped off to bed that she adores you.”

He looked at her with a tentative expressed, raising his eyebrows twice.

Britta continued to watch him carefully, her arms still crossed over her chest. After a few moments of awkward silence, she asked in a soft voice, “She adores me?”

He relaxed slightly as he replied, “Yes. That’s actually why she encouraged us to go out on the back porch earlier. She wanted us to notice the mistletoe.”

Britta looked down and pulled her arms in tighter as she said, “So that’s why you wanted us to stay out there. I didn’t see it. I was just cold.”

“Really? I thought you were pretending not to see it because you didn’t want to…”

\--“Kiss you?”

She looked up at him and released her grip, almost robotically moving her arms down to her sides.

He nodded but remained where he sat. In a low voice, he said evenly, “I’m not sure how you feel. Since we were _intimate_ you haven’t returned my calls.”

She cringed and then awkwardly shrugged. “Hey, we hung out two days later at Annie’s party, didn’t we? That was fun.”

He shook his head. “You handed me a joint in the parking lot, then pulled me into your car where we preceded to buzz the living shit out of our brains before joining the others.”

“Yeah, so we had a good time.”

Duncan brought a closed fist up to his mouth and bit the knuckles with moderate pressure.

Noticing his angst, Britta quickly added, “I’m not sorry we were _intimate_. I wasn’t sure if you were okay with it, so I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

He reclasped his hands and sighed heavily. “Why on earth would you wonder how I felt about it since I kept calling you? Clearly, I was more than okay with it. But when you didn’t return my calls, and you act like nothing’s changed, what am I supposed to think?   I was a little hurt.”

She looked back down and began to mentally trace the patterns in the comforter.

He sighed again as they both sat in silence for a few moments.

Finally, she said in an almost whisper, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I like you.”

He whispered back, “You do?”

She nodded and suppressed a smile. “I had a really nice time having sex with you. I could tell you really wanted me to enjoy it.”

He squinted at her as she scooted closer. “Why on earth wouldn’t I want you to enjoy it? Of course I wanted you to have a bloody good time. That’s the whole point of it. Otherwise, err, I might as well just engage in Chang-ing myself.”

Britta let out a low laugh as she looked back up. “Oh, don’t do _that_. You’ll go blind.”

She watched with relief as he burst into a prolonged giggle. She scooted even closer to him.

Slapping his thigh and wiping a tear from his eye, he sputtered, “Even if you don’t ever want to do it again, I can die happy. Do you know how long it’s been? And never with anyone as beautiful or kind as you.”

Britta smiled sadly as she watched his laughter fit die down and him hunch forward in an almost defeated gesture. She said with a flippant tone, “Hey, I never said I wouldn’t want to do it again. I’d actually like to do it again, you know, if you want.”

He sat up straighter and turned to look at her. “We haven’t even gone on a proper date. We, err, should. We should do that.”

Her eyes widened. “You want to _date_ me?!?”

His eyes mimicked hers as he stammered, “Well, err, yes. But only of course if you want to. We could be friends. I want us to be friends. But I’d really like it if we could be something more.”

He abruptly stopped speaking and stared at her as if a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

She placed a hand near her mouth and let out a grunt.

He frowned. “I’m sorry? What was that?”

She shook herself and answered, “Nothing. I was just surprised. I didn’t know you wanted to _date_ me. I thought we were just having fun.”

Duncan closed his eyes in a pained expression. “Please. Don’t do this, Miss… Britta.”

“Ian, I…”

His eyes snapped open and he gave a curt nod. “That’s perfectly all right. I respect that. I merely wanted to let you know that I would be open for something more.”

She tilted her head and looked at him with a sad smile. “It’s been awhile since I’ve _dated_. To be honest, I’m not really that good at it. I don’t even really know how.”

In an almost squeaky voice, he asked, “Please date me? Pretty please?”

Her mouth curving in a smirk, she asked, “Really? You’re _begging_ me?”

Throwing out his hands in exasperation he asked, “Why the hell not?” He grabbed the stocking cap and shoved it on his head. “There. I’m wearing my bloody winter nightcap. This is me. I love Christmas. There were a few years there when I was alone on the holiday, and I was _so lonely_. But I haven’t been since Jeffrey and Dorie took me in. But this Christmas was so much better with you. It was the best bloody Christmas ever.”

Britta broke out into a wide grin. “I knew it! You loved playing Santa! Dorie didn’t make you do it at all!”

“Of course I love being Santa!”

“And I _hate_ Santa! But I thought you were an _adorable_ Santa! And you weren’t creepy at all!”

“I brought my own Santa costume! I was waiting until the children were old enough to appreciate it!”

They sat facing each other as another silence descended. They both found themselves suppressing a smile.

Britta finally broke the trance by asking in an almost whisper, “So what happens if we _date_? How would that be different from what we have been doing?”

“I suppose it doesn’t have to be that different.”

“Cool. Cause I like what we’ve been doing. Hanging out. And then um, we can add more sex. That might be fun.”

Duncan leaned in and met her very willing lips with his own. Duncan was aware they kissed slowly, certainly more languidly than during the previous _sexy times_. It felt so _right_. He tried to ignore the knotted pit in his stomach that tended to occur during these types of moments.

Always finding it very difficult to not be himself, he interrupted the smooch with a whimper.

Britta tensed. “Did you not want to do that? You kissed me.”

He placed another quick kiss to her lips and then pulled back slightly with a sad smile. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to give you that impression. I was very much into the kiss but my stomach tends to spasm whenever I think I might be happy.”

Britta’s lip quivered as she leaned in for another soft kiss. As they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers.

She mumbled, “I don’t think we should do anything tonight. We’re in Jeff’s mom’s house. That would be kinda strange.”

Duncan let out a low chuckle. “No, there is absolutely no way we are doing that. Not here. Not now. I was err, wondering if you wanted to join me in the den?”

She leaned back and scrunched up her face. “But we just said..”

He broke in and took her hand. “I asked you if you wanted to join me. Not have sex with me. I get cold on winter nights. It might be nice.”

Britta stared at him incredulously and laughed, “Yeah, um, okay. Why not? I’ll come in for a little bit.”

“Excellent.” 

*****************************

“Hm-hm- _hmmm_ -hmm- _hm_ -hm..”

Abed, clad in his footed red pajamas, padded down the stairs. He stopped on the bottom step to yawn before turning to make his way toward the kitchen for a midnight snack.

Jeff’s mom had told him there were plenty of leftover Gingerbread cookies, and he knew Troy would be excited if they used them to reenact various Christmas scenes from the previous evening in preparation for his documentary footage editing session. He couldn’t wait to wake up Troy and get started. In his haste, he forgot to capture footage of Britta sleeping on the couch and moved right on by the living room.

With a gleam in his eye, he placed his camera on the counter and opened the fridge.

“Ahh…goodies. These will work.” He carefully took the plate and placed it on the counter and then closed the fridge. As he began to consider how he was going to balance both the plate and camera, he jolted at the memory of the couch.

He grabbed the camera and spun around, nodding to himself before he marched toward the living room.

_Ah. An empty couch bed._

He nodded several times to himself and mumbled, “Sex comedy.”

He tiptoed down the hallway toward the den and was momentarily thwarted by the closed door before he realized it was unlikely to have a lock on it. Afterall, there was no keyhole, which upon reflection, would have sufficed for his purposes. He frowned.

But then in that case, he probably couldn’t record through a keyhole. It would be too dark.

_But this isn’t that kind of movie. Troy watches movies like that sometimes, but I don’t like them._

_Sex comedies are more about suggestion._

His face lighting up with inspiration, he leaned his ear against the door and hit record on the audio.

He scowled at the lack of verbal grunts and squeaks. 

*************************

Troy turned from his slumber, his eye mask half falling off. He grinned lazily as Abed shook his shoulder.

“Hey, did you leave?”

Abed nodded in the pitch-black room and whispered, “I missed it. Or perhaps they didn’t do it. This may not be a sex comedy but more of a romantic comedy. An early ‘When Harry Met Sally,’ if you will. I’m very confused.”

Troy sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Did I miss another part of your movie? You’re supposed to wake me up if there are any developments.” As alertness came over him, he added with a cringe, “But can we please not talk about Jeff and Annie and s-e-x? We all know they’re doing it, but I don’t really want to think about it.”

Abed explained tersely, “This isn’t about Jeff and Annie. I already told you my plans for the larger work. This is about one of the subplots. The reason I didn’t include you was because even _I_ know you might be upset.”

Troy frowned. “What subplot?”

“The Britta one. I know you have a crush on her.”

Troy squeaked, “Dude, I do _not_ have a crush on her. Sure, she’s really pretty and funny. And she has nice boobs but you know you’ll always come first, Abed. Please don’t be mad.”

Abed responded in a calm tone, “Why would I be mad? I asked her to move in with us. I did that for you. And for opportunities for my film.”

Troy leaned forward to grab the Spiderman blanket, which now lay bunched up at the bottom of their sleeping bags. As he pulled it up, he asked casually, “So you don’t care if I think Britta’s pretty?”

The response was swift. “Not at all. She has a nice symmetrical face, so I can understand. As long as you devote seventy five percent of your time to me, it’ll be fine.”

Troy’s voice softened as he said, “Abed, I’ll devote ninety percent of time to _us_. I only spend like two, maybe four percent thinking of Britta like that. And I try not to think about her in front of you.”

“That’s good, Troy.”

Troy shook his head and laughed. “Hey, I’m really happy you’re so cool about this.” He then sat up straight in realization. “Do you think it would be weird if I asked her out? Since she’s our roommate that might be awkward. But she has her own room, so I’ll like give her plenty of space. Although, if it doesn’t work out, I don’t want her to be mad.”

Abed studied the faint outline of Troy’s face in the darkness. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about it. She’s now seeing Professor Duncan, or as I like to call him, evil SantaWizard. I’m pretty sure he’s Santa. It’s a dark revelation. Way too dark for my film.”

Troy gasped, “Dude! Why would you let me speculate about all that? I just bared my soul, man. I’m feeling really vulnerable right now. And there’s no way Professor Duncan is Santa. I couldn’t take Britta leaving us for Santa.”

“It’s okay, Troy. Don’t cry. I brought you some cookies.”

“I love you, man.”

“I love you too, Troy.”

 


End file.
